A weekly light — poetry, stories, and reflections from the strange in-between.

Lantern at the Door

I leave a light for the ones who wander,
the restless, the dreamers,
the ones who look backward when the night gets too quiet.

This door opens to nowhere and everywhere.
Inside: stories that hum like trapped bees,
poems stitched from old smoke and new sorrow.

Step carefully.
The floorboards remember.

The light won’t last forever,
but for tonight,
it’s yours.

Lantern Note:
I wrote this as the first light of The Thursday Lantern — a threshold poem. It’s a welcome, a whisper, and a promise: that each week, a small light will flicker here for whoever needs it.

🕯 The Lantern’s lit every Thursday — a new poem, story, or reflection each week.
Follow along here or on Instagram @wrightspoetry to catch the next light.